


Pretend That You Love Me

by magicsophicorn



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicsophicorn/pseuds/magicsophicorn
Summary: “Great, thanks, I’ll send a car to pick you up around 7 tomorrow. Also you should probably know that I told Charlie that I was bringing a date because he is not the only one who can pull hot young women, thank you very much. So wear something nice.”Zoey frowned in confusion, why did Joan want her there if she was also taking a date?Joan looked at her and didn’t say anything further, she seemed really uncomfortable… And then it clicked.“Wait, ME? You want me to be your date?”
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Joan
Comments: 74
Kudos: 178





	1. Wait, me?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to paradox-n-bedrock on Tumblr for the prompt.
> 
> Posting this as multichapter in an attempt to make me finish it faster... Let's see if it works.

_Knock knock knock knock knock._

“Mo!”

No answer.

_Knock knock knock._

The door flew open and Zoey almost hit Mo in the face as she went to knock again.

“Hello Sheldon,” he said, looking very unamused, “what can I do for you?”

Zoey didn’t get the reference, but then she never got any of Mo’s references. She ducked under his arm and hurried into the apartment, not noticing that he hadn’t actually invited her in.

“I need your expert fashion advice.”

Mo’s face lit up.

“Well _obviously_. First we’ll start by burning that cardigan…”

“No, not about this outfit.”

He squinted at her.

“Are you sure? Because it’s really…”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she interrupted, “I need… wait, what’s wrong with this cardigan?”

Zoey scrunched her face up indignantly. It was a really nice cardigan, actually. Her mom had given it to her for Christmas.

“Uhhh, you know what, never mind. What fashion advice _do_ you need?”

Oh yeah, _that_. Zoey fidgeted anxiously as she thought again about her current predicament.

“I need you to help me find an outfit to wear to the charity fundraising gala at the city museum tomorrow night. I’m going with Joan and I think it’s a really fancy kind of event.”

Mo’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to the museum charity gala? _You?_ To the most upscale event in our city’s social calendar, where all of the millionaires and billionaires schmooze and show off how rich they rich they are by donating obscene amounts of money to an already obscenely rich museum?”

Zoey nodded furiously, feeling the hysteria threatening to overwhelm her.

“Okay I’m going to need some more context, why exactly is your boss taking you, of all people, to this event?”

That was the question that Zoey was pretty stuck on too. It really didn’t make any sense.

Zoey took a deep breath in then spit the words out all at once, hardly even breathing between each one.

“She asked me to pretend to be her date to try and make her ex-husband Charlie jealous…”

If she wasn’t feeling so utterly petrified about the whole thing, Zoey would have found the look of complete disbelief on Mo’s face hilarious.

“Well I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that.”

He looked as though he was going to say something, but then at seeing Zoey’s look of terror, changed his mind.

“Well, we best get started then! Don’t worry, I’ll have you looking like the belle of the ball, so every time you get a compliment you better tell all those rich white folk that it was me who styled you.”

Zoey smiled gratefully. At least this way she wouldn’t have to worry about looking out of place, she trusted Mo would put her in something appropriate for the event. Instead she would just need to worry about not saying anything stupid, or falling over, or drunkenly setting fire to a rose wall, or a million other things that could very easily go wrong. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that she was going to have to pretend to be Joan’s _date._ Her brain screeched to halt at the thought and refused to go any further, so instead she focused on breathing and on listening to Mo as he excitedly talked through his vision for her outfit.

\------------------------------------

_5 Hours Earlier_

“Zoey, could I speak to you quickly please?”

She smiled and nodded, then followed Joan into her office, ignoring Tobin’s sing-song _‘someone’s in trou-ble’_ comment.

Joan closed the door behind them and motioned for Zoey to take a seat before sitting down in her own chair behind the desk.

“So Zoey, what are you doing tomorrow evening?”

Zoey’s brain took a minute to process this question, having been expecting something a bit more work related.

“Um, nothing, I think, why?”

She hoped Joan didn’t want to go out drinking again. That hadn’t exactly ended well for her the last time they did that.

“Excellent,” Joan said, then started shuffling papers round on her desk, she didn’t look up at Zoey as she continued to speak, “then perhaps you could, would like to, join me at the museum’s annual charity gala?”

Now Zoey was really struggling to process what was going on. Wasn’t that some kind of fancy rich people fundraising thing?

“Uuuuhhh…”

But before she could formulate any kind of question, Joan’s shoulders sagged and she sighed loudly.

“Okay, look, here’s the thing. Charlie is going to be there with his new lingerie-model girlfriend, and this will be the first time I’ve seen him since the divorce, so I could really do with some friendly moral support, you know?”

Zoey’s heart went out to Joan. That had to be tough.s

“Of course, Joan, I’d love to go with you.”

Joan smiled awkwardly, which was unusual and really should have clued Zoey in to what was coming next.

“Great, thanks, I’ll send a car to pick you up around 7 tomorrow. Also you should probably know that I told Charlie that I was bringing a date because he is not the only one who can pull hot young women, thank you very much. So wear something nice.”

Zoey frowned in confusion, why did Joan want her there if she was also taking a date?

Joan looked at her and didn’t say anything further, she seemed really uncomfortable… And then it clicked.

“Wait, _ME_? You want me to be your _date_?”

Her voice squeaked a little at the last word.

“Only in front of Charlie. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Zoey kind of thought it was. How was she supposed to pretend to be on a date with her boss? And at a fancy event for rich people, which she most certainly was not?

Joan wasn’t looking at her anymore, she was back to shuffling papers around her desk for no reason.

Zoey couldn’t help but sympathize a little still, despite it all.

“Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

Joan looked immensely relieved.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Zoey stood up and started to leave. When she reached the door a thought occurred to her.

“Wait does this mean you think I’m young and hot? That’s what you said wasn’t it?”

“Get out of my office, Zoey,” Joan said, the corners of her mouth twitching into an amused smile.

Zoey grinned and left the office.

It wasn’t until she sat back down at her desk that the enormity of what she had just agreed to do hit her.

She was going to need help.

Luckily she knew just the right person to ask.


	2. Actually, Zoey is my date.

Zoey smoothed some imaginary wrinkles out of her dress for the four hundredth time since getting in the car ten minutes ago.

She had to admit, Mo really had excelled himself. Zoey had never looked this glamourous in her entire life before.

She was wearing a delicate pastel pink strapless dress with intricate red and pink embroidery, her hair was perfectly styled in soft waves swept to the side, and she was wearing deep red lipstick.

When Mo had described his vision for the ensemble she had been worried that the colour scheme would look terrible with her pale complexion and red hair, but when she saw herself in the mirror for the first time wearing it she had to admit that he really did know what he was doing. She looked like a beautiful 1940s film star. It was incredible. Maybe she could just wear this dress every day to the office?

Thinking about the office made her think about Joan, and the butterflies in her stomach starting doing loop-the-loops.

She was quite grateful that Joan had arranged for separate cars to take them to the gala, as she needed every minute she could get to try to calm herself down and figure out how to act natural.

She was not good at acting calm and natural in normal circumstances, let alone in strange twilight zone situations where she was pretending to be on a date with her boss. She just hoped she didn’t embarrass Joan too badly.

The car stopped and Zoey grabbed her purse and pushed the door open, just in time to see her driver approaching the door to do it for her. Right, yeah, this was a fancy chauffeur kind of event.

The driver held out his hand to her and Zoey gratefully took it, allowing him to help her exit the car gracefully in her beautiful dress. She was pretty sure she would have faceplanted without him.

As soon as she stepped away from the car Zoey was blinded by the flashes of photographers. Why were they taking photos of her? She wasn’t famous. There were a few other people around her posing for the cameras, but Zoey didn’t really feel comfortable doing that, so she lowered her gaze and hurried up the steps to wait in the lobby for Joan.

Inside there were fairy lights and flowers strategically placed, giving the whole place an atmosphere of magical wonder, yet somehow avoiding looking tacky.

Zoey tried to remember the last time she had come to the museum. It must have been when she was a kid.

_Her dad lifted her up on his shoulders._

_“Now you’re as tall as a brontosaurus!”_

_Zoey giggled and grabbed his hair._

She felt tears prickle behind her eyes at the memory, but a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts before they could turn morose.

“Zoey?”

She turned around to see Joan walking towards her, and the butterflies in her stomach suddenly felt more like helicopters.

Joan’s dress was vibrant red, exactly matching the red embroidery on Zoey’s own dress. The style too was also reminiscent of 40s Hollywood with a one shoulder design, a belt at the waist and a ruche down the front. It was almost as if they had coordinated their outfits to compliment each other. Had Mo asked Joan what she was planning to wear? Surely not?

Joan always looked good. No, that was an understatement, Joan always looked _great_ , but tonight… Tonight she was stunning.

Zoey waved at her. Like the cool and normal person she was.

Joan smiled, stopping in front of Zoey and looking her up and down.

“Thank you again for coming with me,” she said, slightly awkwardly, “you look… surprisingly good. Nice shoes.”

Zoey beamed, despite the somewhat backhanded compliment. She had insisted on wearing the Leboutins that Joan had given her, despite Mo’s protestations that they didn’t work with the dress at all.

“Thanks! And you look amazing. I mean you always look amazing, but extra specially so tonight. Did you do something different with your hair? That lipstick colour looks really good on you…”

She could feel herself babbling but couldn’t seem to stop. Why couldn’t she stop talking? She looked around for some sort of distraction or interruption… and found the worst one.

“Joanie!”

Charlie’s voice seemed to echo round the lobby as he approached them, despite the throngs of people talking, and wasn’t that just a prime example of be careful what you wish for. Zoey couldn’t decide who was the bigger douchebag, Charlie or the Universe.

Joan’s back stiffened and she plastered on a fake looking smile and turned to face him. Zoey briefly wondered when she had learned to tell the difference between Joan’s real and fake smiles.

“Charlie. Good to see you.”

He reached them and stopped, looking Joan up and down before noticing Zoey hovering slightly behind her.

“And you brought,” he frowned in confusion as if trying to remember why he recognised her, “your… assistant?”

“Actually, Zoey is my date,” Joan said icily.

Zoey had no idea what she was supposed to do here. Should she hold Joan’s hand? Say something? _Kiss her?_

Instead she settled for smiling and stepping forwards so she was standing right next to Joan. She figured she could use the moral support right now.

Charlie barked out a laugh, beckoning for his date to join him. A skinny blonde girl who couldn’t have been more than 20 years old approached and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smirking at Joan as if she was something to be pitied.

“Really, Joanie? Shagging the secretary? What a cliché. And a woman your age having a lesbian fling? It’s a bit tasteless don’t you think? She’s probably only sleeping with you to try and get a promotion.”

A raging fire of anger lit in Zoey’s belly. Who did this jerk think he was? First he treats Joan like shit for years during their marriage, and then he insults her for moving on and going on a date with someone else after they got divorced? What an absolute asshole.

Joan opened her mouth to say something, but Zoey beat her to it, too fired up on her rage to think about whether it was a good idea or not.

“Right, right, and your barely legal, not at all cliché, date is with you for your receding hairline and winning personality? Somehow I doubt that. Come on babe, let’s go get a drink.”

Zoey grabbed Joan’s hand and pulled her off in the direction she hoped the bar was located. To be honest she didn’t care where they went as long as it was away from that asshat.

It wasn’t until they were in the next room, well away from Charlie and his bimbo, that Zoey calmed down enough to realize what she’d just done.

Oh god. She had just royally insulted Joan’s ex. What if she was mad at her? What if she’d already ruined her evening?

Zoey suddenly realised that they were still holding hands.

Swallowing hard, but still not letting go, she turned to face Joan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their outfits are the ones that Lauren and Jane wore to the golden globes.
> 
> Also yes I know I am obsessed with Zoey waving awkwardly at Joan and put it in all my fics. No i don't plan to stop.
> 
> Also I apologise completely for how long it took me to post the next chapter, it is entirely the fault of Stardew Valley and nothing to do with my lack of self-control... I promise I won't wake nearly so long for the rest though!


	3. May I have this dance?

She had been expecting anger. But the expression on Joan’s face was… not that.

Joan’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open, and she was staring at Zoey.

Zoey couldn’t actually work out what it was that Joan was feeling at all. She almost wished she would start singing and clue her in.

“I’m so sorry Joan, that was totally out of line, I don’t know what came over me…”

Joan blinked a few times and licked her lips.

“No, no, it’s okay. It was… I didn’t know you had something like that in you.”

She squeezed Zoey’s hand slightly and then let go.

Zoey felt her whole body relax with relief. It was okay, Joan wasn’t mad at her, and she hadn’t ruined her evening. But probably she should try not to do anything like that again, since she had almost certainly just made a life-long enemy of one of the most influential men in the tech field. She couldn’t really bring herself to care too much though, since the man in question was a grade A douche-canoe.

“So where’s that bar then?” Zoey asked, laughing awkwardly.

She looked around the room they were now in for the first time. It was the main hall of the museum, so there was the giant brontosaurus skeleton at one end, and other smaller exhibits dotted around. The other end of the hall had a band playing jazz music, with a space in front for dancing. There were people everywhere and tables and chairs spread around the hall, weaving in and out of the exhibitions. She couldn’t see a bar anywhere though.

“Oh Zoey, it’s not that kind of party. We’re far too rich to get our own alcohol.”

Joan smirked and, as if summoned by magic, a waiter appeared beside her carrying a tray of champagne flutes. She took two and passed one of them to Zoey with a wink.

Zoey took it and tried to resist the urge to drink it all in one go. Free alcohol was both excellent and very dangerous. There were no rose walls here to set aflame, but there _was_ a giant dinosaur skeleton that she wouldn’t put it past herself to somehow manage to destroy.

They took a seat at the nearest unoccupied table and Zoey sipped her drink and tried to think of something to say.

Thankfully Joan rescued her by speaking first.

“This event is always so dull. At least you provided me with you some entertainment this year. I’ll never forget the look on Charlie’s face as we left…”

She chuckled to herself, and warmth spread through Zoey’s chest.

“If it’s so boring why do you come every year?”

“Oh you know, Charlie always wanted to be _seen_ , so of course I had to be seen with him. I thought about not coming this year but…”

“Then he’d feel like he won,” Zoey guessed.

Joan nodded and Zoey felt the anger stirring within her again. Stupid asshole.

“You know one year I decided to bring a bunch of googly eyes with me and stick them on all the dinosaur models. That was fun.”

Zoey laughed, picturing it perfectly. If she’d heard that story before getting to know Joan as a friend she wouldn’t have believed it, but now she absolutely could.

“There’s always a few people here who…”

In the middle of her sentence Joan paused, her eyes focussed behind Zoey for a moment, and her entire face fell. Zoey didn’t have to turn and look behind her to know that she must have just spotted Charlie.

“Let’s go dance,” Joan said, her eyes focussing back on Zoey, a strained smile on her face.

Zoey was not a comfortable dancer by any stretch of the imagination, but she was more than willing to embarrass herself if it meant Joan could get away from Charlie and maybe start to have a good time again.

She nodded and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Sounds fun!”

They wove their way through the tables and crowds of people to the dance floor in front of the band. There were quite a few people dancing already, including the obligatory wildly over-enthusiastic drunk man, which made Zoey feel slightly less self-conscious, and she started swaying from side to side, trying desperately to look and act normal.

They had only been dancing for a few minutes though when the music started to slow and all around them couples embraced and started dancing together.

Zoey stopped moving and stared at Joan, but her gaze was on the other side of the hall, back where they had come from, no doubt on Charlie if her sad expression was anything to go by.

“May I have this dance?” Zoey asked, before she could think too hard about what she was doing. “After all, we are on a date…”

Joan’s head snapped round to face her and she smiled - another fake one, Zoey briefly noted. But then Joan stepped towards her, into her personal space, and Zoey suddenly found she had to try to remember how to breathe.

Joan’s fingertips brushed her palm as she took Zoey’s hand, her other hand settling on Zoey’s waist and then sliding round to rest on her back.

Zoey’s other hand found its way to Joan’s bicep almost of its own accord, and without realising it she moved even closer in towards Joan, until the were pressed together, gently swaying from side to side.

This time when Joan smiled, it was real. She was looking down at Zoey, and if this had been a TV show she would have had a goddamn halo or something.

Zoey had always admired her boss. She was strong and ambitious and smart, all the things Zoey aspired to be. But she had been realizing more and more lately that she had totally misjudged Joan for years. Not that she wasn’t all those things, of course she was, but she was also fun and soft and kind and caring and vulnerable. Ever since she had unknowingly sung ‘Satisfaction’ Zoey had been getting closer to her, and had finally been able to see her as a real person with feelings, hopes and dreams.

Looking up into her face Zoey knew that she was a gonner - Joan was perfect and Zoey would do anything for her.

No wonder she had got so angry at Charlie earlier… And no wonder she had agreed to go on a fake date with her.

Zoey was immensely grateful that Joan couldn’t hear her Heart Song right now, because it would no doubt be something sickeningly romantic.

A voice in the back of her head pointed out that she wasn’t hearing a Heart Song from Joan either, which meant that Joan probably wasn’t having the same romantic thoughts that she was. Which was sad, but entirely to be expected. Joan was just getting over her divorce. To a man. She was probably totally straight. But then why had she asked Zoey to be her fake date and not Leif or one of the other guys? Max was an excellent fake date, she’d used him herself several times for that. Usually just for getting rid of creepy guys who were hitting on her though. Nothing like this.

Now she just had to figure out how to get through the rest of the evening pretending to be on a date with Joan when she desperately wanted to be on a _real_ date with her.

Far too soon for Zoey’s liking the music stopped, the band announcing they were going to take a short break and be back soon.

She immediately let go of Joan and stepped back slightly, finding it much easier to breathe now that every breath wasn’t full of the scent of Joan’s perfume.

“Let’s find a waiter,” Zoey said, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt, “I need a drink.”


	4. Do you want to get out of here?

A waiter appeared by Zoey’s side.

_Seriously? How did they keep doing that?!? Did they have superpowered hearing or something?_

She took two flutes of champagne from his tray, downed one and then put the empty glass back immediately.

“Uuh, let’s go have a look at some of the exhibits,” Joan said, placing a hand on Zoey’s elbow and gently leading her away from the dancefloor.

Zoey tried hard to keep her feelings in check, but she couldn’t help but be hyper aware of Joan’s fingers on her skin. She needed to get over this fast if she was going to stand any chance of making it through the rest of the evening without saying or doing something incredibly stupid.

Joan stopped in front of a glass case containing various masks from around the world, her fingers dropping from Zoey’s arm.

Zoey feigned an interest in the masks, but found herself looking at Joan’s reflection in the glass.

She was staring intently at Zoey.

“Are you alright Zoey? You seem a little more flustered than usual.”

Zoey tried to fake a smile, turning her head to look at Joan.

“Oh no, yeah, I’m fine. I just… I’m not a very comfortable dancer, is all.”

Joan raised an eyebrow.

“Felt pretty comfortable to me,” she murmured.

Zoey spluttered, unsure if she was supposed to have heard that or not. She turned her attention back to the masks.

Her mind was still haunted by their dance together, and why Joan had asked her to be her fake date, and not one of the guys. Could Joan possibly have feelings for her? Or was she just being hopeful? Joan hadn’t sung about it, so it didn’t seem likely. But then, people didn’t sing to her about _all_ their feelings _all_ the time, so maybe there was still a chance?

She had just about worked up the courage to ask when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Turning around, Zoey found herself facing an older lady wearing the most elegant black dress Zoey had ever seen. Her hair was entirely white, short, and it gave her such an air of presence that Zoey was immediately in awe.

“Excuse me darling,” the woman said, “I just have to know who designed your dress, it’s simply divine.”

Zoey blinked for a moment, her brain processing the words.

“Oh right! Yeah my friend Mo designed it actually, he’s incredibly talented. Here, I’ll give you his card, hold on.”

She fished around in her purse for the business cards that he had given her for exactly this reason. She couldn’t wait to tell him someone had complimented his handiwork, he would be thrilled.

The woman took the card, said she’d give Mo a call, then sauntered off. Zoey watched her go, no less in awe.

How did women like her and Joan do it? That effortless elegance and poise. Zoey knew she was the opposite of that in pretty much every way.

She turned back towards Joan, half expecting her to have wandered off and found someone more interesting to talk to, but she was still there, looking at the masks and waiting for Zoey to be free.

That was a point, Joan had been coming here for years, didn’t she have other friends here she wanted to speak to? And yet she had spent the entire evening with no one but Zoey?

It only increased her desperation to find out more.

“Can I ask you a question Joan?”

She was about to head into dangerous territory here, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. She was desperate to know the answer.

It helped that she wasn’t looking at Joan. She wasn’t sure she would be brave enough to ask if she were.

“Of course.”

“Why did you ask me to be your fake date tonight and not Leif, or Max, or… anyone else really? Do you… Have you… dated women before? I mean for real, not fake dating… like this.”

Zoey held her breath, both afraid that she had crossed some sort of line, and also of what the answer might be.

“Well technically that’s two questions. But to answer your second question first, yes I’ve dated plenty of women, and men. Is that a problem?”

Zoey shook her head furiously, eyes wide, desperately trying to process this new information.

Joan liked women? Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe she stood a chance after all?

Nope. No. Nope. Don’t go down that road. It didn’t matter that she liked women, that didn’t mean she liked _her_ , and also she was her _boss_. Totally off limits.

“And I would have thought the answer to your other question was obvious. Have you met Leif and Max? The thought of trying to make small talk with them for several hours makes me want to shoot myself in the face. I knew I’d have a good time with you. Also it helps that you’re, how did I phrase it? Young and hot.”

She winked and Zoey laughed, happiness spreading through her.

Joan liked spending time with her, and had called her hot twice now. She didn’t think it could get any better than that.

She was wrong.

Joan’s eyes flicked away from her face for a moment and she grimaced.

“Zoey I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.”

Zoey opened her mouth to ask, but before she could say a word Joan reached up and cupped her cheek in her palm, pressing their lips together in a kiss.

She felt like fireworks were going off inside her. Was this really happening? Was Joan really kissing her?

Her hands found their way to Joan’s waist almost of their own accord, and she pulled her towards herself until their bodies were pressed together.

Joan’s tongue brushed her lips and she didn’t hesitate to meet it with her own.

This was officially the best night of her life.

Zoey lost herself in the kiss, trying desperately to commit to memory every sensation and every second.

The way Joan’s fingers tangled in her hair. The way she rubbed her nose softly against Zoey’s. The smell of her perfume. The taste of champagne on her lips.

After what was probably only minutes, if not seconds, but felt to Zoey like an eternity, Joan pulled away from her, breaking the kiss.

Zoey swallowed the whimper she wanted to make at the loss of Joan’s lips, her eyes fluttering open to find Joan’s face still so close to hers.

It took all her self-control not to lean back in for another kiss.

“I’m so sorry Zoey,” Joan said, her voice wavering slightly. She cleared her throat and took a step back. Zoey’s hands fell from her sides. “Charlie was heading towards us and I _really_ didn’t want to have to speak to him again, and that was… the first idea that came to mind. I know that’s not what you signed up for tonight. I… I won’t do that again. I am sorry.”

Zoey felt like her heart was breaking. Of course. It had just been about Charlie. Joan hadn’t actually wanted to kiss her, it was all just part of the fake date act.

She knew she shouldn’t have got her hopes up in the first place, but that didn’t help her not to feel utterly devastated now.

“That’s okay,” she said, trying hard to keep her emotions out of her voice, “I understand.”

She swallowed hard. She had to get over this. Joan was her boss and her friend. She hadn’t even thought about her in this way before tonight. This was not a big deal.

She almost believed it.

“Hey do you want to get out of here?” Joan asked.

Zoey wasn’t sure she could face going to another bar with Joan. There was no way that more alcohol could lead to anything other than disaster given the events of the evening so far.

“I think maybe I’ve had enough to drink already…”

Joan shook her head.

“Not to drink, I was thinking food. I don’t know about you, but these tiny little canapes just don’t hit the spot.”

Now that she mentioned it, Zoey was feeling pretty hungry.

She was torn between desperately wanting to spend more time with Joan, and wanting to go home, curl up in a ball and try to convince herself that her feelings for her boss were purely platonic after all.

The first option won.

“Sure, I could eat. What did you have in mind?”

Joan smiled.

“I know just the place, come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left, chaps. Well, if I stick to my original plan to end the fic at the end of their night that is.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me on this one! If you have any other Joan/Zoey prompts you'd like me to write send them my way! I have the same username on Tumblr.


	5. The Best Idea

“Okay, this is definitely the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Joan had walked them a few blocks away from the museum to the smallest burger joint Zoey had ever been in. It was shabby and dirty, the kind of place you might find yourself at 2am after a night out when you got the drunken munchies.

They were sitting on high stalls at the counter, their shoulders brushing, and they looked phenomenally out of place in their beautiful dresses. Normally Zoey would be feeling incredibly self-conscious and uncomfortable in such a situation, but the burger she was currently eating was so damn good she really couldn’t bring herself to care.

Joan laughed.

“Oh yeah, these are the best burgers in the city, no competition. I come here every year after the gala.”

Her smile dropped a little.

“This is the first time I’ve had company though. Charlie always used to go off somewhere with the guys, or just leave without telling me, so I’d always come here alone.”

Zoey felt the familiar burn of anger in the pit of her stomach that arose any time she was reminded of how terribly Charlie used to treat Joan. She wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to say anything though, so instead she took another bite of her burger.

“Despite what it might sound like, and what my actions this evening might suggest… I really am glad that things are over between me and him.”

Zoey risked looking away from her burger, and at Joan instead. There was no hint of sadness on her face anymore, it was pure ‘boss mode’ confidence.

“So I’m not going to come to this stupid gala anymore. You were right, I don’t enjoy it so there’s no point. I don’t care what he thinks of me. In fact, I don’t care what he thinks about anything. I’m done.”

“Well good for you!” Zoey mumbled around a mouthful of food, trying to swallow it as quickly as possible without choking.

“Thanks. Oh you’ve got a little sauce…”

Before Zoey knew what was happening, Joan had reached over and brushed the corner of her mouth with her finger, then put it to her own lips and licked it clean.

Zoey’s mind immediately crashed into the gutter. Her cheeks burned and her lips tingled. _Fuuuuck._

Joan coughed slightly and looked away from Zoey, as if she’d only just realized herself what she had done.

“Okay my turn to ask you a question,” Joan said, “why did you agree to be my fake date when I asked you?”

Her piercing blue eyes met Zoey’s at the end of the question and Zoey’s stomach flipped.

How was she supposed to answer that? At the time she hadn’t even really known why she’d said yes, she’d thought it was sympathy, or empathy, or something. But now she understood that her overwhelming desire to help Joan in any and every way possible was because she was stupidly in love with her boss.

She definitely couldn’t say that though.

“Oh well, you know, I love the museum! So… go museum!”

Joan looked entirely unconvinced by that answer and Zoey couldn’t blame her at all. She didn’t think she could have given a worse answer if she’d tried.

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you did. Ironically this evening has probably been the best date I’ve ever been on in my life. It’s just a shame it was fake. Perhaps we should go on a real date sometime?”

“I’d like that,” Zoey blurted before she could stop herself, realizing immediately from the look of surprise on Joan’s face that of course she had just been joking about going on a real date.

Shit, fuck, shit!

Zoey wanted to get up and run away. Or even better, for the floor to just swallow her up whole and never spit her out.

How could she have been so stupid? Now Joan was going to hate her, or fire her, or at least be extremely awkward around her.

She couldn’t think of any way to fix it, and she knew she couldn’t run away, so instead Zoey focussed all her attention on her burger, taking another big bite and then examining the thing like she’d never seen it before in her life.

Maybe, hopefully, Joan would just pretend like she hadn’t just admitted she wanted to date her, and they could just ignore this completely and go back to normal.

She took another few bites, not daring to look at Joan as the minutes dragged on without her saying anything.

“Hey Zoey.”

Joan’s voice interrupted her fantasy of an earthquake splitting the floor open underneath her, and she turned to face her just in time to see Joan flick her wrist, and something wet hit her forehead.

It took her a moment or two to figure out what had happened.

Joan had thrown a pickle slice at her, and it was still stuck to her forehead.

Joan was cackling with laughter, her eyes scrunched up so much they were almost closed. She looked so happy and beautiful and carefree that all of Zoey’s thoughts from moments ago were instantly wiped from her mind and she couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

“Did you seriously just throw a pickle at me???”

Joan nodded, still laughing so hard she was unable to speak.

Well two could play at that game!

Zoey dipped her fingers in the puddle of BBQ sauce left splattered on her plate from her burger and reached over and swiped them across Joan’s cheek.

Joan gasped in mock outrage and caught Zoey’s wrist in her hand.

She tried to twist her arm out of Joan’s grasp but in doing so she lost her balance on the stall and started to tip towards Joan.

Joan’s other hand caught her shoulder, steadying her in place.

But their faces were so close now.

They both stopped laughing and inhaled sharply.

Zoey couldn’t stop her eyes from flicking down to Joan’s lips. They were so close and Zoey wanted to kiss them again so very badly.

Joan licked her lips and Zoey had to fight not to whimper.

“Zoey,” Joan said softly, “I… would really like to kiss you again.”

She thought for a moment that she’d imagined it, but now Joan was looking at _her_ lips, and god could she be any more beautiful?

“I’d really like that too.”

Joan’s smile was radiant, but brief, as she closed her eyes and leaned forward to press her lips to Zoey’s for the second time that evening.

If Zoey had thought their first kiss was good, it had nothing on this second one.

Joan was kissing her because she wanted to, not because of Charlie or because they were pretending to be dating.

Joan _wanted_ to kiss her.

Just thinking it had Zoey’s heart soaring.

Their kiss was soft and slow, almost as if neither of them could believe this was happening and were each afraid of the other ending it too soon.

Joan’s thumb rubbed soft circles on Zoey’s pulse point where the was still grasping onto her wrist. Zoey wanted to hold her hand but remembered just in time that her fingers were still covered in sauce.

Which reminded her that she still had a pickle slice stuck to her forehead.

She burst out laughing in the middle of the kiss and Joan pulled away sharply.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey wheezed through her laughter, “I just remembered the pickle!”

Joan started laughing again too. She let go of Zoey’s wrist, reached up, and plucked the pickle slice from her forehead.

Emboldened by their kiss, Zoey reached over with her clean hand and wiped the sauce from Joan’s cheek that she had smeared there a few minutes ago.

“You had a little sauce,” she said with a giggle, then licked her fingers clean.

Joan choked a little on her laughter, her cheeks reddening, and Zoey felt like her heart might bust.

“We should, uh… We should definitely go on a real date sometime,” Joan murmured, and Zoey thought it was the first time she’d ever seen her flustered like that.

Zoey grinned.

“I take back what I said earlier, _that’s_ the best idea you’ve ever had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thank you all for your lovely comments throughout this fic, you've all made me so happy. <3
> 
> I did briefly consider extending this by having a photo of them kissing at the gala be spread all over the gossip columns the next day... But in the end I decided it was better to leave it at just the one night.
> 
> Don't worry though, I want to write plenty more new Zoey/Joan fics so if you have any prompts you want me to try please do let me know. I'm on Tumblr with the same username and you can also find me in the zoeyxjoan group chat.


End file.
